


We’re Partners In This

by Acorn_of_Doom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little bit of fluff at the end, Depression, F/M, Self-Harm, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 04:54:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acorn_of_Doom/pseuds/Acorn_of_Doom
Summary: Hey guys, so this is my first fandom work. Let me know what you guys think. Please don’t read this if you are easily triggered. Self-harm is not a fun thing and it should not be taken lightly. Let me know if you need to talk! Also, I do not own any of these characters or the show. Thanks. <3Reader is in a relationship with Dean Winchester. After a long day she gets back to the bunker and tries to find some relief.





	We’re Partners In This

Supernatural FanFic:  
(DeanXreader)

It had been one of those days where you’re so exhausted by the end that it’s a challenge to even move. That’s the point I was at when I stepped out of the impala. Dean kissed my cheek and told me to go inside and get some rest. He and Sam could unload the car then grab some dinner and discuss the Werewolf hunt we had just finished successfully. I dragged myself down to my room and dropped my bags at the foot of my bed before collapsing into my pillows. I felt drained and confused. Today had been a relatively good day when I looked back at it, but there were so many little things that had gone wrong that the day just felt heavy. Like I was being crushed.  
The morning had started with the three of us at a cafe. The waitress had spilled hot coffee on me while she was ogling Dean and then made him grumpy when she admitted they were out of pie. Then, as we drove through Texas to find the werewolf pack, I gave the wrong directions and sent us the wrong way for over an hour before Sam realized and corrected us. Then my gun jammed when I had the perfect shot so Dean had to save my ass and I smacked my head on the impala as we got in to leave.  
‘How was I so useless? Why couldn’t I do anything right? Why were these little things affecting me so much?’ I thought.  
I began to cry as more and more of these ideas began to race through my mind. I probably deserved it. All of it.  
‘You’re not pretty. You don’t deserve Dean. That waitress was so much prettier than you and she was flirting with him. He probably wants her more than you. Why would he want to be with you? You’re a terrible hunter. Sam and Dean would be so much better off without you. You’re worthless.’  
My tears soaked my pillows and the collar of my t-shirt as I sobbed on my bed. I was so tired of feeling useless and ugly and stupid. I needed something to stop my head racing. I wiped my tears and sat up. I hadn’t cut for a couple of months now. I knew it hurt Dean when he saw new cuts and scars. He had always tried to help me and even bandaged me up when I couldn’t myself, but I knew how deeply he felt it. He always felt guilty even for things that weren’t his fault. Things he couldn’t control. But I needed the release. Dean would probably be tired and go straight to bed anyway. He wouldn’t notice tonight and I could hide them tomorrow.  
I listened for a minute. The bunker was quiet and I hadn’t heard the boys come in. They were probably running to get dinner now, which meant I had a few minutes to do this. I grabbed my knives from my dresser drawer and walked to the bathroom. I closed the door and locked it before turning on the shower. Hopefully if the boys get home before I’m done they’ll think I’m just in the shower and hopefully the lock will keep Dean from thinking of joining me.  
I sat down on the floor next to the bathtub and lay my arm on my knee. My arms were covered in various hunting scars, but my bicep was littered with scars from my own blade. I was supposed to be strong and to protect people but I couldn’t even keep my own shit together. I’m not strong. I’m weak.  
I dug my blade into the middle of my arm, creating a thin red line from one side to the other. Blood beaded on the edges and slowly spilled slightly down my arm. It was small, but the relief that came from it helped immediately before quickly faded back to the overwhelming hopelessness. I sliced again, farther down and slightly deeper and the relief felt even better. I repeated this two, three, five, eight more times before starting again at the top. Each cut was deeper and the pain lasted longer but the relief did too.  
Soon my body was numb and my head began to hurt. I looked down at my arm and was shocked at how many cuts I had made. They were layered over each other and some places would definitely need stitches. The last cut, however, was too deep. Blood flowed quickly out of it and was now pooling on the ground.  
“Shit.” I said, dropping my blade and reaching for toilet paper. Before I was able to reach it, I passed out and slumped to the floor.  
Sam and Dean walked into the bunker laughing and carrying food, beer and Dean’s favorite pie. They walked to the kitchen, hearing the shower running as they passed and set the groceries down on the counter. Dean opened three beers and took a swig of his before saying  
“I’m gonna go tell (y/n) food’s ready.” Sam rolled his eyes.  
“Don’t take too long. It’s gonna get cold.”  
Dean smiled and wiggled his eyebrows before sauntering toward his and (y/n)’s room. He opened the door to their bedroom and closed it before stepping over (y/n)’s bag and reaching for the bathroom door handle, finding it locked.  
‘Damn. No shower sex.’ He pouted before knocking instead.  
“Hey (y/n/n), grubs on!” He called through the closed door. No answer. He knocked again.  
“Babe, we have dinner. You coming out?” Silence. He knocked harder.  
“(Y/n), you okay in there?” He called out. Still no answer.  
“(Y/n), open the door.” Dean pounded on the door, starting to panic.  
“(Y/n), I’m coming in!” He backed up a step and slammed his shoulder into the door, smashing it in. His eyes landed on your body, unconscious and laying in a pool of blood.  
“Shit!” He yelled, diving towards your body to find the source of the bleeding. He quickly realized your bicep was the source of the blood and his face paled as he saw the damage.  
“Sam!” He screamed as he felt for your pulse. It was weak, but you were still alive.  
“Sam!” He screamed again, grabbing for anything to stop the bleeding. Sam came bursting through the bedroom door and froze when he saw the scene before him.  
“Dean is...is she...” he stuttered.  
“She’s alive, but barely. Get me the first aid kit and call Cas!” He replied, before trying to wake you up.  
“(Y/n), come on, wake up. Come on babe.”  
He shook you slightly, tears starting to run down his face when you didn’t stir.  
“Sam, hurry up!”  
He continued to plead with your unconscious form until Sam ran back in with the kit. They both quickly wrapped your arm, attempting to stop the bleeding, before a loud flutter of wings alerted them to Cas’ presence. Both looking up, they saw the angel’s pale face registering the situation before him. He reached down, pressing two fingers to your forehead before everything went white.

Your head swam with different shades of red, and every once in a while you thought you heard soft voices, but could never make out what they were saying. You felt heavy, like you were sinking down into a dark pit you could never climb out of. You didn’t want to die. That’s not what you had meant to do. You just wanted relief. You didn’t want to hurt Dean. Dean. If you die, he’ll blame himself. He would never get over it. Neither would Sam. You can’t do that to them. You start pushing against the darkness, against the heavy feeling. You try to swim up to escape the pit, but it keeps dragging you down further. Suddenly, a bright light enters the pit and grabs you, lifting you away from the darkness.

You wake up hours after the boys found you on the bathroom floor. You were in yours and Dean’s bed, tucked into the warm sheets that smelled like him. You took a deep breath, glad to be surrounded by a familiar scent. You opened your eyes, the bright lights making you wince before you were able to look around, finding Dean asleep in his chair by the side of the bed. He look tired, eyes still red from crying.  
“Dean?” You called softly, the small sound still jolting him awake. He sat up straight, suddenly on alert, before his eyes landed on you and his body relaxed. He got up, walking to the bed and sitting by your side before he let out a sigh of relief.  
“Hey sweetheart. I thought I’d lost you.” He wrapped you in his arms and kissed your forehead. You leaned into his embrace. He was so warm, his strong arms held you tightly as though he was afraid of losing you again. And you cried.  
“I’m so sorry Dean. I just wanted some relief. I didn’t mean to...I wasn’t trying...” you couldn’t finish your sentence, overcome with guilt.  
“Hey, hey, I believe you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you sweetheart. I should’ve known you were struggling.” He whispered.  
You looked up at him.  
“Dean, this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known because I was trying to keep it from you. I didn’t want you to get caught up in this.” You finished quietly. Your tone was serious and unwavering. This was not Dean’s fault and you didn’t want him to think it was.  
“(Y/n/n), we’re supposed to be partners for things like this. I love you and I want you to share these things with me. I’ll always be there for you and I know you’ll be there for me too. You don’t have to hide from me.” Dean kissed you lightly as your tears dried. You knew he was right. He would always be there. You just had to keep fighting for him. For all of them.  
“Alright well I think it’s time we get you some food. Sam’s trying to teach Cas how to make dinner and there’s apple pie in the fridge.” Dean chuckled before kissing you again and helping you out of bed. You felt so loved and you knew things were going to get better.


End file.
